


The Magik is Back

by wanderlustlover



Category: New Mutants, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Gen, mutantmansion_pbem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-31
Updated: 2002-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustlover/pseuds/wanderlustlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was always only half alive. </p><p>How can you kill something already half dead? And what if it never really dies?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reflection

Inward reflection was all she had but fear for the longest time. He'd trapped her -again- within some kinda power field-cage, which had stolen her sorcery power use and left her unable to use her mutant powers either. The tops and bottoms being pentagrams of red fire to ward against her powers anyway, but also to remind her he was in control -again-. But this had all been after she had been ripped back from the land of free souls beyond life. She could remember little of the place beyond and it grew dimmer by the days. Perhaps it was true what the poets and philosophers had said; if we knew of the life beyond life we would either spend our time counting down or yearn more to die than give ourselves the will we have to live. All she could remember now was bright shimmery light and the beautiful music that calmed her heart.

The music was all I'd had to save me this long time.

She'd hated him for bringing her back as much as she could really hate anyone at all, which if you knew her you'd know was almost impossible. Almost as impossible as rain in the dessert, but then with people like the one's she had known in life- rain in the dessert wouldn't be so hard. She'd loathed the fact she hadn't been able to stop nor deter him from being able to do this terrible deed. But the thing that still haunted her always -the deep dark within that always shadowed every move or thought- was the shuddering fear. The eternal fears that she could -or would- become so alike him. An evil demon sorceress with no cares at all for life. For home, or heart or love. He had called her "The World's Eternal Damnation"; the key to the freedom Eldrich Gods and a part of her had longed to be it buried deep, deep within. Part of her always wanted his love, his magic's and his pleasing. And long before even that he'd given her the ancient and ornate Beatrice BloodStone Medallion with words of warning -or blessing- dependant on who was looking at it and how.

  
_"...when you are grown into a woman and have learn in the full measure the arts arcane,  
when the last bloodstones are in their proper places...you will ascend to the most glorious of destinies."_   


It is my special talisman - a gift from one who had said he loved me.

How many had sought to save her from this destiny and others had trained her to be able to fight it?

Ororo? She'd gone to sorcery once her powers had slipped from her, and embraced her second nature. Ororo had then wanted to train her of good magic's and just choices and reason. She'd only helped me a day, but she'd shown her the darkness he'd placed in her and none could remove for either of their souls- but that she could rise above it and embrace the light rather than the dark. And how did I repay her?

With her death.

Cat? Older version of Kitty, more to her namesake than she hoped to ever see again but only because of his magic's used on the woman. She'd stolen her from Ororo thinking it the only way to beat him was to learn and teach the survival skills on basic level. And I learned that one lesson of Kill or Be Killed. She and Ororo were completely different here and so set apart, not like the two from my world. She taught me to hunt, and to survive. She pushed me too far all those times and taught me not to care if for her approval but the meaning of surviving as only one's self and not the powers one could "use or abuse" as she put it. And how had I repaid her?

With her death.

Professor Charles Xavier and his teams? With my return everyone had been shocked in the change of their blue eyed child. She'd chosen life over evil in those last seconds and returned to them. She never told them everything about what happened there. It hurt too much to; but he and his X-men and her team had helped her through it all anyway. They'd helped more than they'd probably ever realize in the end and how had she repaid them? With darkness and terror.

And eventually with my own death in terms and later in full.

To a negative point it was her dark side that always whispered these terrible terrible truth to her in silent hope that would give in -as she once had, but all these people had taught her. One thing was that truth was in the eye of the beholder, just like beauty and that a scene had as many truths as it had views and angles which to see it from, which were limitless. She could- but she never would give in again.

And in the end who was it that truly saved me?

Her idol? Her savior even in memory alone? The person who could make her fears vanish with the sound of his voice or the soundless embrace of his encircled arms around her? For he was all that was right and good and just in heart. He was sensitive, as peaceful as the light and hard as steel in defense of family, and dream and justice. He was her ray of light and her conscience. The only person she ever wanted true approval from and wanted to please to no end. It was his memory, his love that had saved her even without him being here.

He is my brother.

That summed up brought her back to today again and to him. Her capture and Demon lord; the devil

she'd been plaything and consort to, too. In his own way he truly had loved her. He'd loved her darkness, her power and all the evil she possessed and could be. All that and the dark love had been why he had resurrected her- but he'd never expected that purity even with the shadow that always resided over it. The mortality and death had kept her to good even in the end after the world she'd been damn to be the Damnation of -or Savior of- had damned her to death in return.

He'd only been able to reach her through her evil; her dark side. The 3/5 and the bloodstones, which claimed her soul to be more evil than good, more taught by him than by Ororo in those 7 years. The stones that claimed her soul as warning and torment of the fact evil and darkness claimed more of her soul than the goodness and light did or could ever. So his anger had qualified when he had found out resurrecting her would not ensure him the Eldrich Gate to the Elder Gods, which only she could open once the other two bloodstones were placed. That was one of her legacy. Only she could do it.

She'd reverted to a child once upon a time far back to make it impossible for her darkness to control her- after she'd given in to it. On the fact of sheer will. If she never knew she had evil that if she thought she was only innocence and child then it could have no hold- and it had held true. In that turn the action had wiped her memory of it all.

She'd forgotten everything. She'd forgotten her dark side, her evil but along with it she'd forgotten her powers of the light, and even her mutant powers. And as she couldn't remember it left her nothing to regret, nothing to fear but normal things, and no shadow over her heart or soul.

_I was free. Was._


	2. I Think Therefor I am, or Says My Soul

But my soul remembered in the end that was never an end for it was just another level beyond life.

A higher point of conciseness and life.

So what did she have to attribute all this? 16 or 17 years of wisdom locked forever in a child's form of pale pink-white skin and long blonde hair? A dark demon child soul with control of almost all the powers of darkness and a soul of light with almost all the powers of light, merged together as one? Two lives lived in one lifetime and yet a third now? A sword that seared souls, an almost impenetrable armor and a useful mutant power?

Her sword. Hmmmm that brought up the fact about how long she'd been in her devils' power eliminating cage. When she'd passed on -just like Ororo's tree- the sword has survived her on. Trapped in this cage and set as torment to watch all the realities from this central hub, she saw all that happened to many- including Amanda Sefton, Kurt Wagner, and their mother; Margali Szados fighting her lord before he fell- but he only fell into the lower hell he had made to contain me.

He lost both the control of this our realm and my sword. Power Unlimited but no one could use it like me.

He raged for days having realized he lost his castle and his control to Amanda whom was and is now Limbo's Protector & Custodian of the Winding Way, but she had knocked the sword away and it had vanished in the fight. And that in itself had annoyed him to no end. The sword was power beyond reckoning and he had deemed it destined to be his. He had always wanted his child's' power, her will and her sword. But he would never realize it was not gone but that it was she, his failure daemon child & love, who wielded the sword again as it always should be and have been.

It had started small pushing the bounds of the cage while not breaking it by her encured will. It had been painful the first few times she touched the edge, but then he had been the one to make her grow through pain all her child's life. The pain wasn't searing it was so much less than the pain he made her feel for the third power stone, but it caused enough of a shock like an electric shock might now. Snow wasn't cold since the limbo icefeild and she never minded storms after it either. She could stand anything after Limbo. After this place's childhood weather, pain and to many other things different phase as they did normal people.

Her powers grew slowly filling the body which was hers and not hers -only basically made for her by pure magic's- to hold her to this earth-limbo and open the Eldrich Gates. Her powers began to push the cage-field, too, since it was made to hold her; but darkness can never hold the light completely. When the sword had fallen she reached out with everything she was in herself -in her soul and her heart and her mind- and drew it to herself. It couldn't deny the call. The sword was part an extenuation of her soul, created by her soul, her mind and her powers at the peak point of greatest survival as a child when he had left her to die in the barren parts of Limbo.

It came to me and at touch was first absorbed in tender bittersweet embrace. I missed it even though I never noticed the loss.

It was almost a heartbreaking homecoming for it jarred her completely to the fact she was truly here and alive. Until that moment she had almost wished -dreamed and hoped- this might be a fantasy hell she had deserved by having the dark side in her. He'd found her later that day in tears; and ego's as evil have, he thought her tears were the beginning break in the fall of her will. There was no way he'd ever realize it till she wished it. She was her soul, and her sword was just the extenuation of that never-ending soul.

And so it went for the next while. Time was meaningless here, but she watched realities and pushed her bounds bit by bit by bit, gaining more ground each time even within the small space. She -at her lords will- was left in a place where she could only watch time pass, watch friends and loved ones of old have things happen to them. It was a slow, painstaking progress with no one to call for help and daily torment and excursion from him. She didn't re-age or de-age this time, for no matter how it mocked her, she was Supreme here and had much control over herself only; atleast till she was free. It wouldn't be long either.

Her Lord Belasco though was gone an unknown time but it was much much longer than normal. Not that she missed him -quiet the opposite- but it meant something was definitely up or being put into action. He could be off or he could be watching her, again. Waiting for her to make a move, again, as the first time he had pulled tricks like these. He knew same as she that he couldn't hold her forever; he was just hoping to invoke her dark side's control first. She could beat him into the ground same as she had when she was only 13.

He knew what she'd do just like he did; she'd go back to the only family, the only home she'd ever know, right?

He was right, she would.

Wouldn't she?


	3. Cause and Effect

She had enough time to go over it again. Once, twice, thirty zillion times and again it felt like. For what could you do when you were stuck nonmovable in a field between to power pentagrams of red flames of evil and darkness? Okay, so that wasn't completely true. She could move a little bit. Could move and walk and lay down when she only slept. That was her only freedom so far.

Choice's and Consequences.

That's what it came down to wasn't it. She had to choose something. The choice of life and freedom was choosing what to do really. Even if she knew in her heart and soul and the deep recess of her mind already which one she'd take. It was faint to her, wasn't fair to anyone of them really, was it? Again she thought about it, mulled over it.

One. She could give in to undeniable surrender. Strike; she'd never join the dark side or embrace darkness ever again if she the choice or will to fight it, even if it meant dying again.

Two. Die. Well, yeah, she had to admit it was extreme's but it was also realistic in a view. She didn't think she could truly come up with the guts to convince herself to do that one. But the edge of that one she hung. Did she have the right to interrupt lives, which had mourned and moved on from her life and her death?

Three. Take back her position as Sorceress of Supreme & Ruling Lady of Limbo and rule silently. Okay, Strike two, which wouldn't work either. Amanda would tell Kurt she's been relieved by her, and by decention of the line the next step would be a) contacting the x-men with the news and b) 5 seconds later he'd be Bamfing right into her lap and start hugging her and then the questions would come.

Okay, she has to admit the hug idea part of it wasn't that bad. She'd desperately needed someone to hold her a few times and she'd been untouched except for by him. And Belasco loved to watch her squirm, to see her tormented and in pain. But then she truly only wanted one or two people to hug her immediately and make the world all right for a few seconds and that brought her to the last one.

Four. Go back home. To the X-men. She couldn't run to Mama and Papa because like her eldest brother, they were dead, but her family -her brother- were really the X-men. She'd grown up there since she was young, 6 years old. But was it fair to *step* into their lives again, after all this. Pun sadly intended. But did she have that right?

But then what right had Belasco had to tear her soul from the peaceful beyond, drag her all the way back to the only place she had nightmares of still, resurrect her in a body made of only magic energies & cage her within this restrained cage-field? But the final choice was now hers. The questions were now hers. Did she have the strength to go on? Not the magic, not the powers, did she have the strength inside?

So what did that leave after the strikes. The ultimate choice. Life or death? Suicide or her family? Each choice had its good points and it's bad. Suicide, they would see it as giving up and they would tell her to live even with their shock, but she didn't want to shock their lives again as she had each time. Family, she wanted her family. She wanted to see her brothers' eyes again and to be held while she could cry again. She knew in her soul and her mind and her heart. It was heart rendering and it hurt to force the moment, but she knew and had known from the beginning what she wanted.

I want to go home and I am going home now!

And with that the bright blue eyes of Illyaninika Nikolovna Rasputina snapped open suddenly. Ignoring all else she stood up straight raising her arms above her head through the streaming blond hair standing in the middle of both the red flaming pentagrams and blue crystal like field. Her pale arms were completely straight hands clasp together in a cupped shape and she closed her eyes, again. She pushed out all worries, all doubts, focusing for a silver line.

Piotr loved me, will love me. The X-men loved me and will welcome me with open arms and hearts. I will be happy again. I will make a miracle out of this disaster.

Her thin pointer fingers upward placed together the rest of the them cupped a small beam of light began to stream from her fingers as a the air around her almost began to shimmer and come to life causing crackles as it reacted within the field. This was an all out attack on it, and it knew it. Where there was the beam of light the soul sword began to form. A long silver blade with silver pommel and wide silver hilt. It was thin and light weight and was the perfect extension of her arm -her soul and her being.

It felt exhilarating. The power pouring through her directly from her core directed to the right reason. White light. The sword began to glow brighter as the magic and energy travels through her body and arms and into the blades. The flaming pentagram above her was flaring trying to protect the field even as the power in the sword blade seared through the lines slashing them as if they'd had been scraps of paper. Bring her arm down in a wide sweep she made a complete circle, smashing the field in two with the Soul Sword power and the cage was gone.

Agony filled Illyana's small form suddenly and she cried out for a moment as the field had tried to contain her and she cut it smaller in shreds and the energy fell away. She bit her bottom lip. The exhaustion that hadn't hit her all that time in the fields, the real feel in this body not in some magic energy suddenly filled her. It left her feeling a little bit less than whole at the moment. It was like the time she'd been made normal by the Beyonder. It was like feeling more dead than alive, like half of you had fallen out somewhere and you were less than whole. A sudden scurrying noise caught her attention and she whirled around in time to see daemons dashing from the shallows and away.

She didn't fear them as much as they feared her. She had been their lady. Nicer in some ways than any of the others had ever been. Nicer than Belasco had been. Loved her, no they hadn't. Respected her, for a part. Feared her, absolutely. She was the child who defeated their eternal lord. She was a child. If she could do this now to him *as a child*, what could she do to them? How powerful could she become? How much more evil than Belasco? That was how it had gone until she'd truly become the DarkChylde.

That thought stilled her suddenly with a faint wave of fear and childish paranoia. He'd know she was free few within seconds. He'd know she'd broken the cage and was on the loose. He'd come for her. He'd come. He always had. He always would. The sword gone again into her she hugged herself. Get a hold of yourself, now, before Belasco comes and gets a hold of you for you again. And to her disgust a piece of her thrilled at the thought of it.

Calm. Your going home now, 'Yana, remember what Rahne always said. Just get hold of your heart and remember to breathe.


	4. In Places That Are No Place Like Home

Last chance, Snow White; you can turn back now. You can. No one would know. They'd understand. I'm sure they would. Wouldn't you, Piotr Nikolievitch? I'm so scared again, brother. I wish you were here to tell me what was the right choice. I saw what happened in the end. I saw what my passing caused. Oh, of all people, If I hurt you by coming back... I don't know what I would do if I hurt you again, it hurt so much just to see it.

He made me see first hand what everyone went through, no looking away no cringing; just forced transfixed to watch what happened after I was gone. I'm sorry, I didn't want you to feel that pain. I don't even know how to ask to be forgiven for that. I remember what it was like when I thought you had died in Dallas. Self blame everywhere, because I'd been the one to teleport you there. I watched the newscasts over and over, taped them all, that famed your -and the x-men's- death. I became guilt ridden and even tried to kill the man I blamed for your death.

But you were never really dead; and I truly am, were, was. However that goes. This also though made me face the part of my mind and soul than Xian -Shan- wiped blank because it had happened all to earlier, when the New Mutants dared me to face my future and we all went forward in time. The one moment that revealed that Stryfe was not my murder by way of the Legacy Virus. No this place made me face the heartbreaking fact that that single fault and mistake had fallen on Mikhail -my eldest brothers- shoulders. I'd never had the mind to remember and now I haven't the heart to forget. Mikhail, my eldest brother, my heart breaks over what you have/had done but more for you, had I the tears to cry right now in this place I would cry for you for we promised we'd meet in hell one day.

Piotr, older brother, I love you still, love you so much that it's the only one thing inside me that's clear & makes sense and watching can't tell me if you've ever thought of me. I'm afraid, my brother. Afraid to move forward and afraid to stand still. Afraid to come to you and afraid to leave the only way there is to now. It's so different stuck in this spot. So scary. I wish you were here to help me.

"Mis'ress? Miss'ress?"

Pulled from her painful thoughts Illyana looked down quietly as a small black and green daemon pulled on the bottom of anklet part of her shoes. It was dark and ugly in it's own way, but it's eyes were still the same as she remembered. They were open and silent, but needful and even sweet in their own way. A way few ever saw. She kneeled down and picked it up holding it to her in a light hug. Some of them didn't seem to have forgotten her, and some just like Amanda had liked her being around. Not all daemons were bad, just like dark children -such as herself- could die as angels. Where had that come from? Words seem to be whispering around her.

"A life in turmoil. Burdened by demons not of her making- she remained an angel to her core. Frightened by the darkness, which had, for a time, gripped her soul - she was brave enough to stoke the embers of light that smoldered in her heart... awaiting against odds to blaze bright once more. She taught us to cling to life with both hands, to wrest what happiness we can from each and every moment of our lives. If we take this lesson to heart...her battle will have been won."

She blinked faintly pushing away the tears that stung the backs of her eyes, urging her to cry finally for the first time. Those words, by Ororo, had been for her long ago- and looking at the small demon in her arm, she realized just like she knew that every second longer she stood there was a second Belasco was getting closer to her now. Not letting her tears fall just yet, she smiled weakly at it, feeling the exhaustion that filled her magic form and hugged it quietly to her looking at it. It was only a baby demon in comparison to some of the ones she'd known and fought. Barely a hundred or two years old now; still a tiny child like her. She whispered softly to the little creature of destruction.

"I'm going home. It may not be easy, and it may not be the most unpainful thing I've ever done- but I want- no, I need my family."

Illyana closed her eyes and pressed a light kiss to the creatures' head between his slightly large pointed ears, even if his head was sorta bumpy and slick. She understood what it was to be lost; but more important as exhaustion filling her, she could faintly understand that her mind and soul and heart now tore in different directions, too. Where her soul could understand her whole life completely, and her heart could understand that those who loved her and had through everything still would; her mind couldn't not conceiving of aging forward and backwards in reverse, grasp the knowledge and the gaps. It was closing in on her in places. But it all still only wanted one thing and it interlocked them all for the moment to her mind and soul and heart, forcing the understanding.

She smiled at the demon as she pulled away and kneeled down again setting him on the floor. The creature let go reluctantly of her and then scampered off looking back at her twice before disappearing into the shadows. There was something painfully sweet about leaving and the small creature had proved that just now to her. This place was it's and hers, but never hers by choice or birth. And yet, this was still her place, too.

Her magic was her own and stretching it through her form she finally began to feel control over the form, it was hers and yet she could cognitively know she was supposed to be in it for she was supposed to be dead. Well, if anything could scare a child, that was probably one of those thoughts. She knew it wasn't hers.

What is mine?

Her heart, her soul, her mind. Her soul sword because she made it and her name. Illyananinka anglicized when Piotr brought her here. Illyaninika Rasputina changed in English to Illyana Rasputin. She'd not chosen it herself, but she loved her name. It sounded so pretty, sorta like silver when spoken in her native language of Russian. She'd had enough nicknames to cover from here to who knows where. Little SnowFlake, and Little One; Snow White and 'Yana. Those were a few of the main and usual one's she could remember a lot.

She had to go; she must. Illyana stood, centering her mind and concentrated. She'd have to concentrate, there were too many time lines she could land in, not to mention past or future, too if she wasn't careful. That was the one bad side effect. If she didn't center her mind and focus on where she could end up anywhere at any when, too. She closed her eyes as a swirling disc of blue light began to form around her ankles rising upward slowly.

Hearts intertwine, a poet said, for there are silver strings that connect us to the hearts that love us as much as we love in return. I hope, my brother, that we have one still.

...You are mine...

The words whispered from somewhere and her eyes snapped open the disc having already raised to her waist by now. The urge to pass out completely dwarfed her a second and she looked down. She tried to center and said a spell changing the clothes but it was stopped by her exhaustion. She was stuck in the long green dress that came to her feet with twin slits, one on each side to high thigh; the top was unmodest a low v cut and long flowing sleeves. Her feet had golden shining sandals that came all the way up her shins stopping a few inches below her knees and she was adorned with one necklace of golden beads and the Beatrice Medallion around her neck. Her long blonde hair was shiny and soft on her shoulder's. She looks like an exquisite doll or child goddess and if anything it made her shudder in disgust. The last time she'd been dressed in this was by S'ym the time she and Dani had been forced to come here.

...You can not hide from me...

She was looking around paranoia on over drive and fear coming from everywhere within her as she watched Belasco step out of a wall suddenly. It was enough to almost make her faint on the spot, but the disc at her chest was still raising slowly, and she wondered why she was letting it go slow and not take her in a second. Something in her thrilled and something screamed within her at his appearance. His raspy voice caught her ears this time and not just her mind. He wasn't advancing just standing there.

"I will come for you again, nothing shall stop me. No man, woman nor child will stop me. Those who let me pass will die mercifully and those who don't will fall in pain. It will be your fault, dark love. No matter all who hold you will fall."

Illyana tried to cry out something in response but she was gone in a bright flash and swirl of light before her mouth could even open. Darkness -that was not darkness, but could only be explained as the place between stops in time and life, like a worm hole- enveloped her for the few seconds before she reappeared suddenly in a bright ring of light again in the midst of the Dinning Room and all it's people.

The bright blue stepping disc vanished again leaving her woozy standing in the middle of the room above the dinner table -fear having broke her aim- landing her square in the middle of the table. She looked up a moment and her eyes landed on a woman with long black hair and silver eyes, FireStar, another tall burly man that remind her of her brother, Arc Angel and some older darker boy that resembled -maybe Roberto, from her old team? Who were these people? She knew who 'Berto and Warren were; but the others? But half of her almost painfully laughed, as she looked so lost, she was supposed to be dead as far as those two knew, too.

She was somewhere that looked like home but it wasn't home because it had people who were and weren't supposed to be here. There were more people behind her, walking up or entering now, but she didn't have the energy or the will to look. Exhaustion caved over her in pounding waves along with the pounding pain she had messed up, but that was dwarfed by the fear and agony that she'd come in the wrong place and time endangering innocent people.

"No..." the young girl tried to scream out from the depth of a horror filled face and heart, but it came out more like a hushed whisper as darkness swirled claimed her eyes suddenly and she started to fall. And just like that -in denial of having come wrong again and placing people she didn't even know in danger, everything over and in her, Illyana Rasputin, the girl known half her life as Magik- passed out. Soon to land with a sickening thud across the dinning room table should someone not catch her she fell through the air. An outsider in a group of outsiders the child -demon and/or sorceress, damner or savior- has come home, even if she thinks it is in terms another caged hell, but worse for her own being there threatening people's lives again.

 

_The Final Chapter or the Beginning?_


End file.
